


Helping Hands

by eringiles



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Martin Crieff Whump, Sickfic, Students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eringiles/pseuds/eringiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Martin helped out the students he lived with, and one time they repaid the favour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Melissa

It took Martin’s brain a moment to realise that the ringing he could hear was not coming from the lift he was trying to pilot out of the chocolate factory, but was actually his phone on his bedside table as he came back to reality.

‘Hello?’

‘Martin?’ He was struggling to make sense of the numbers on his alarm clock when he answered.

‘Yeah?’

‘Martin, it’s Becca. I- I’m sorry to call, but Mel and I need a massive favour. We’re out in town and we’ve had a few and Mel’s really drunk. Like really really drunk and none of the taxis will take us and I just- I didn’t know who else to call.’

Three seventeen am. That was what time it was. And he had a moving job in the morning.

‘Martin?’

He ran a hand over his face, scratching the stubble that was already forming there.

‘Where are you?’ He asked as he threw the covers from him, shuddering as his bare feet hit the floorboards and he searched blindly in the dark for a pair of jeans to throw on.

He found them sat on the pavement outside Reflex. Mel looked like she was passed out on Becca’s shoulder, her legs splayed out every which way, her heels resting in the gutter along with Becca’s and next to them a fresh pool of vomit. He pulled up at the curb, his sweaty feet squeeking inside his trainers as he opened the drivers’ door and stepped out into the street to help Becca with Mel.

‘Thank you so much, Martin.’

‘Thank me with a cup of coffee in the morning.’

They managed to rouse Mel enough to get her into the passenger seat of Martin’s car. Her skin was cold and clammy to the touch so Martin shrugged off the hoodie he’d pulled on over his t-shirt and draped it over Mel. Becca, now that the responsibility of looking after Mel had been passed onto someone else, was clearly starting to feel her drunkness as she sprawled across the back seat of Martin’s car, clutching both her and Mel’s shoes to her chest. Martin had to stop twice on the ride home to let first Mel and then Becca upchuck on the side of the road. By the time he got back home, Mel had literally passed out in the front seat and Becca managed to fall out of the car, only saved by the fact she still had one arm tangled in the seatbelt.

Martin had to carry Mel into the house and take her up to her room. He left her fully dressed under the covers with a washing up bowl beside the bed before he went to check on Becca. She’d managed to get herself out of her dress and into an oversized t-shirt but was now hopping almost comically round her room trying to take her tights off. Martin stopped her before she injured herself by falling over, sitting her down on her bed and helping her pull the tights from round her ankles.

‘Thank you,’ she slurred as he pulled the covers over her, one of her hands almost slapping him in the face as she flailed towards him, in what was no doubt supposed to be a gesture of friendship. ‘You are the bestest.’

Martin smiled, despite how tired he was. ‘You’re welcome. Get some sleep.’


	2. Josh

There was a knock at the door. Martin hadn’t been in long from his last van job of the day. He’d only just got out the shower, still had his towel wrapped round his waist.

‘Hang on.’ He called out as he pulled a fresh t-shirt over his head, and as a consequence pulled his damp curls down over his forehead and eyes. He needed to get a haircut at some point.

He was trying to sweep his hair out his eyes when he pulled his bedroom door open to reveal Josh. Josh being the only other man in the house often found sanctuary in Martin’s room when the girls were on the war path due to him not doing the washing up, or having football nights at the house when he hadn’t cleared it with the others.

‘You okay, Josh?’

‘Sorry, Martin. I didn’t know you were busy.’

‘I’m not. Just about to make some food actually.’

‘Oh, that’s good!’

Martin frowned. ‘Yes. It is. Because I happen to be quite hungry. Everything alright?’

‘Well, you know how my cooking skills sort of involve a lot of beans on toast and pot noodle?’

‘Yes…’ Martin elongated the word, worried that he knew where this was going. He wasn’t really in the mood to be cooking for others this evening. He’d had plans with his sofa and Top Gun. Alone.

‘Well, I was wondering. If you could maybe teach me to make something other than beans on toast. By tomorrow evening. If that’s okay? I bought some chicken breasts, but I’ve got no idea what to do with them.’

‘I- Can I ask why you’ve suddenly taken an interest in being a culinary genius?’

Josh looked away and fidgeted with one of the books on Martin’s bedside table and Martin had to resist the urge to laugh.

‘What girl is it this time?’

**

Martin ended up trying to teach Josh how to make a basic pasta, chicken and pesto concoction, but predictably when he got home from work the next evening he found Josh panicking alone in the kitchen, frantically looking at the clock and – was that cream cheese in his hair?

‘You made it look easy, Martin. This is not easy!’ Josh protested. Martin put his keys down on the kitchen table and moved cautiously over to the cooker to peer in the pan. It didn’t look good.

‘Um, I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

‘Your face says different, Martin.’

Martin forgot that he was cringing into the pan, he tried to force a smile instead as he took the wooden spoon from Josh and poked at something he thought was possibly chicken but he couldn’t be too sure. Everything in the pan looked bone dry too.

‘No. No, we can fix this. With some wine or some, uh, stock cubes, if you’ve got any?’

‘I’ve got beer.’ Josh said peering in his cupboard.

‘Right, ask Mel if we can use some of her wine that’s in the fridge, and I think there’s some chicken stock cubes in my cupboard. Then go have a shower to get whatever that is out your hair, and I’ll fix this.’ Martin put on his supreme commander face, sure that he could triumph over this small problem and come out on top. He wasn’t Douglas, but that wouldn’t stop him from at least making an attempt.

‘You are a lifesaver, Martin. Thank you.’ Josh grinned as he skidded out the kitchen, yelling for Mel. Martin continued to poke at the contents of the pan, hoping he could at least salvage some of it. As it turned out, Martin managed to make dinner edible and it went down as a success. The problem was, Josh was a one trick pony, and within a couple of weeks he was back to trying to date someone in the agricultural college who wasn’t a pony club girl with high expectations of him.


	3. Jo

‘Thank you for agreeing to do this, Martin.’ Jo was sat in the passenger seat of Martin’s car as they pulled up outside Jo’s ex’s house. He’d felt brave when he’d offered to help Jo get her stuff back from her arse of an ex boyfriend, but now that he was about to face down the front door and consequentially the 6ft odd rugby playing farm hand he wasn’t feeling quite so brave.

‘That’s okay.’ Martin said, as he killed the engine, stealing himself before moving a hand to the door handle.

‘If you wait here I’ll go and have a word.’

‘No, it’s okay. I’ll come with you. I just- I wanted someone to be with me.’ Martin could see that she was scared and he wondered if there was more to the story than Jake just being an utter arse and cheating on Jo. Martin had never really liked Jake. He’d been a very self centred young man whenever he’d visited the house, always demanding that Jo go change into something more revealing or taking advantage of her when it was clear she wanted to be left alone, or it was embarrassing her in front of her flatmates.

Before Martin knew it, his rage that was slowly building had driven him out of his car and to the green front door of Jake’s lodgings. He knocked forcefully before Jo even had the chance, and he reconsidered how reckless he was being.

‘What do you want?’ Jake asked when he appeared at the door, sizing Martin up and barely glancing at Jo almost cowering beside him.

‘We’ve come for Jo’s things.’

‘What things?’

‘You’ve got some of my CDs and there’s my textbooks and some of my clothes too.’ Jo spoke up, almost peering out from behind Martin, which was quite a feat considering she was roughly the same height as him.

‘Yeah, I chucked them.’ Jake laughed and went to shut the door in their faces, but Martin’s hand shot out in indigence to put a stop to it.

‘You can’t throw out someone else’s property.’

‘Yeah, well too late.’

‘A minute ago you didn’t even know you had Jo’s stuff. I- I think you’re lying.’ Martin was starting to stutter, his rage-fuelled bravado waning quickly. He could feel Jo’s hand grabbing at the hem of the back of his t-shirt.

‘So what if I am? I couldn’t give two shits about her or any of her shit.’ Jake tried to close the front door again, but Martin was shaking now, whether with fear or anger he couldn’t be sure, but his hand shot out again to stop Jake closing the door.

‘It’s theft you know. I could- I could phone the police!’

‘Get real, man.’ Jake was opening the door further, stepping into Martin’s face and it took all Martin’s willpower not to back up. He felt Jo taking a step back though, tugging on Martin’s t-shirt.

‘After all you’ve done to Jo, the least you can do is return her things to her and if you don’t I’ll- well, I will phone the police and report you for theft.’ Martin was trying to get in Jake’s face now, but it was hard not being the most intimidating of men. He wished that he’d done a bit more heavy lifting recently with the van job to build up his muscles more.

‘Really, Jo? You brought your loser housemate to threaten me? He looks like he’s going to pee his pants. I’d have been more scared if you brought that slag, Mel.’ Jake laughed at his own wit.

‘Martin, come on. He’s not going to give it back. Let’s just go.’ Jo was turning away, but Martin’s anger got the better of his fear.

‘No! We came over here to retrieve you’re things, and that’s what we’re going to do!’

The door behind Jake moved again, and Jake’s housemate Gavin appeared, a black bag in his hand and built just as well as Jake. Martin’s bravery chose that moment to do a runner, leaving him alone on the doorstep feeling like a five year old child.

‘Jake, stop being a twat. Here, Jo.’ Gavin handed Jo the black bag he was carrying. ‘He’s been trying to throw it out for the last week, but he’s too scared.’

‘Thanks, Gavin.’ Jo looked inside and gave a small smile, before turning to head back to the car.

‘Yes, thank you, Gavin,’ Martin said, trying to find a way to extract himself from the situation with some dignity intact. Jake was still towering over him, trying and managing to intimidate Martin, but Martin was still so full of anger that he was finding it hard to leave without having the last word.

‘And you’re not a very nice person!’ Martin spat, pointing a finger at Jake before he turned on his heel and marched back to his car where Jo was already sat huddled in the front seat. Before Martin put his seatbelt on he flicked the central locking on and looked across at Jo, somewhat grateful to see Jake retreating back inside the house beyond the window.

‘Okay?’

She nodded hesitantly and gave him a small smile.

‘Thank you.’ She leant over them and gave him a quick hug before he started the car and pulled away from the kerb.


	4. Becca

Becca was panicking. She’d been quite vocal about it at first, scaring most of her housemates away either out the house, or into their own rooms. Now she was in the kitchen, pacing back and forth with her head in a book as she waited for the kettle to boil. This was how Martin found her when he returned from a flight back from Toronto, dog tired, already fumbling with his clip on tie.

‘Becca?’

Martin crossed over to the kettle, switching it on at the wall, somewhat surprised when it immediately started boiling. Becca looked up from her book, frowning first at the kettle, and then at Martin.

‘What are you doing back so early?’

It was Martin’s turn to frown. ‘At six o’clock in the morning?’

‘No, no, no, no, no. It can’t be that time. It just can’t.’ She was looking at the time on the microwave, the time on the cooker, even the clock on the wall, clearly hoping that one of them would give her a different time, or tell her that it was actually 12 hours earlier and Martin was just so tired that he couldn’t tell morning from night. The exam was only three hours away and she didn’t know anything. Oh God.

‘Becca?’ Martin asked again as he watched her breathing become shallow and her eyes unfocused and Martin suddenly recognised what was happening. It hadn’t registered with him before because he’d been going non stop for the past two weeks between MJN and van jobs that he hadn’t realised that his housemates had become hermits due to impending exam season.

‘Becca, come here, sit down.’ He took the book on Agribusiness and Society from her now slack grip and guided her over to sit down at the kitchen table. What Martin did next surprised Becca so much that her breath hitched slightly.

‘Five little men in a flying saucer, flew around the world one day.’ He sang. ‘Sing with me.’

She blinked at him, her breathing still erratic as he started up again. ‘They looked left and right but they didn’t like the sight, so one man flew away.’ He kept singing and Becca joined in, because she didn’t know what else to do, and Martin singing was actually quite soothing.

Martin got to one as the kettle flicked off and Martin waited in the silence as Becca’s breathing finished evening out.

‘Better?’ he asked, still knelt in front of her, his hands on her knees. Becca nodded slightly, even though she still felt panicked, she could at least breath again.

‘Right. I’m going to make us a cup of tea and then you can tell me what you’re panicking about.’ He got to his feet, staggering slightly as the feeling had clearly gone in his feet. Becca watched him as he yawned into the mugs he dragged down from the cupboard.

‘I don’t know anything, Martin,’ she confessed as she watched his broad shoulders flexing as he stirred milk and sugar into the tea.

‘You know plenty.’

‘No, I don’t know anything about Agribusiness.’

‘What’s Agribusiness?’

‘The business of agricultural production, so like crop production and seed supply. That sort of thing.’

‘Well, you know one more thing about it than I do, because I didn’t even know that.’ He smiled as he put one of the mugs down in front of Becca before taking a seat at the kitchen table beside her.

Martin ended up giving Becca a lift into Uni and dropping her off outside the building her exam was in. He looked thoroughly exhausted, but Becca was grateful that he had been there at six o’clock in the morning.

‘Just remember what I said.’ He called to her as she got out of the car. She paused in gathering her bag and smiled in through the backdoor at him.

‘Thanks, Martin.’

As she sat down in her seat, waiting to turn her paper over and start the exam, Martin’s words of wisdom kept her company.

_‘Even if you don’t pass, you’re not a failure.’_


	5. Martin

‘Is Martin joining us tonight?’

‘I don’t know if he’s in.’

‘I haven’t seen him today, but I’ll go check.’ Becca started the long climb up to the attic rooms that Martin occupied alone. She hadn’t seen him for a couple of days now if she was being truthful. She’d been out most of the week at work or college and so had barely touched base in the house, let alone seen everyone. This evening had been arranged on the hoof between various texts and emails, but none of them had heard from Martin about it. Which was odd, because he was usually very good at communicating.

Becca knocked on his bedroom door and waited.

‘Don’t think he’s in.’ She called back down the stairs, as Josh came out his room.

‘I’ll give him a ring, he might be on his way home.’

Becca turned away from Martin’s bedroom door and had one foot on the first step when she heard the shrill ring of a telephone coming from beyond the door of Martin’s room. She frowned, moving back to the door as she listened to the ringing.

‘He’s not answering his phone,’ Josh called up to her. ‘I’ll leave a message.’

‘No, I think he’s in. His phone is ringing up here.’

Josh started climbing the stairs up to her as he re-dialled Martin’s number. As the phone started ringing from beyond the door for a second time, Becca knocked on the door again.

‘Martin?’ She put her ear to the door as Josh ended the call, both of them listening for any signs of life.

‘Maybe he forgot it.’ Josh suggested, just as Becca put a hand on the door handle and turned. The first thing they both noticed was the overwhelming smell of malaise that permeated the air. The room was shrouded in semi-darkness, the curtains half pulled on, but both of them could very clearly make out the disarray of bedcovers and limbs sprawled across Martin’s bed.

‘Poor bugger,’ Josh whispered. ‘He’s probably been doing too much again. Just let him sleep, Becca.’

The latter was said as Becca was slowly tiptoeing towards the bed to get a better look at Martin. She stopped a good couple of feet from the bed, hampered by the drying puddle of vomit on the floor, her stomach churning. Now she was closer she could see just how ill Martin truly looked. From the angle he was lying at he looked as if he’d passed out after emptying the contents of his stomach on the floor, half on and half off the bed, a sheen of sweat covering his pasty features. She stared for a moment longer, too taken aback, before Josh broke the moment.

‘Shit.’ He was stepping over the puddle of vomit to reach Martin, putting a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake while also rolling him back into the bed. Martin didn’t so much as stir, just slept obliviously on.

‘Becca, he’s really burning up,’ Josh said. Becca started forward then, reaching out a hand to place on Martin’s forehead. Josh was right. Martin felt like he was on fire. Becca could see up close now that he was also shivering, sweaty ring marks round his armpits and the collar of his t-shirt.

‘I’ll go get a thermometer.’ As Becca took a step back from the bed, Martin started weakly coughing, his eyes still closed as his stomach started to roll. She gave Josh a nervous look before she left the bedroom, heading back down the stairs to the bathroom, knowing that with Jo the hypochondriac and Mel the would be nurse in the house there was bound to be a thermometer and every other kind of medical paraphernalia possible. Jo happened to be in the bathroom when Becca got down there.

‘Find Martin?’

‘Yeah. He’s not well. Like, really not well. Have you got a thermometer?’

‘Yeah, under the sink. Want me to go grab Mel?’

‘Probably a good idea. You might want to grab a mop too. He’s done a Mel and chucked up over his floor.’

Jo made a face and left to go find Mel. Becca started rummaging around for a thermometer in the undersink cupboard, pulling out all manner of drugs in her search. She found a digital one still in it’s packaging under a box of out of date flu medicine and headed back upstairs. Josh was struggling with Martin, trying to pull his arms out of his t-shirt that he’d thrown up all over. Martin was almost awake now, in the sense that his eyes were open, but he seemed to be struggling with that particular feat, never mind focusing.

‘Martin?’ He didn’t answer her, but his eyes sort of rolled towards her in acknowledgement before they disappeared behind his t-shirt as Josh lifted it over his head. Becca stuck the thermometer under his tongue as he slumped, half conscious against his headboard.

Josh was rooting through Martin’s drawers to try and find a fresh t-shirt as the thermometer beeped. As Becca removed it from his mouth, Martin almost bent double over the side of the bed again and started heaving.

‘Might want to grab a bucket too, Jo!’ Mel called back down the stairs, clearly just appeared in the bedroom doorway. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she moved towards Becca who was still holding the forgotten thermometer in one hand, more focused on watching Martin dry heaving, his muscles straining.

Mel took the thermometer from Becca’s hand to look at the reading. She cringed slightly as the screen blinked the number 41.7 at her before disappearing as Martin collapsed half on and half off the bed. Josh was already trying to lift his dead weight back onto the bed as Mel moved towards Martin.

‘Martin?’ She shook his shoulder, trying to elicit a response from him. ‘Martin?’

Nothing.

As Josh got him settled against the headboard again, his head lolling to one side, Mel lifted his right hand to try and take his pulse. Josh stood waiting, a dry t-shirt in one hand, Becca looking on, neither of them certain of what to do.

‘Becca, I think we need to take him to the hospital.’

‘What?’ Becca reanimated herself then as Mel pinched the skin on the back of Martin’s hand, hoping that would at least get a reaction out of him. But as they watched Martin’s skin slowly taking it’s original shape again at a much more sedate rate than was healthy, Martin didn’t so much as stir.

‘You think we can get him there? Should we not just call an ambulance?’ Josh insisted as he tried to wrestle a t-shirt over Martin’s head just as Jo made an appearance at the door, mop and bucket in one hand, the warm water sloshing over onto her jeans and the floorboards of Martin’s room.

‘Jesus.’

**

They called an ambulance in the end. It was harrowing to watch him being loaded into the back wrapped in a red blanket, an oxygen mask over his face as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Josh went in the ambulance and the girls piled into Mel’s car to follow them to the hospital, not really sure what they were going to do when they got there, but refusing to stay at Parkside Terrace waiting.

When they arrived, Josh had already been left alone in the waiting room, wringing his hands as he kept his eyes on the doors through into the cubical area.

‘What’s going on?’

Josh started slightly at Becca’s words, clearly not expecting the girls to make an appearence quite so soon. ‘They’re assessing him. They said they’d let me know when they know more, but he was struggling to breath in the ambulance, Bex. It was scary.’

There was silence between them for a while, lost in their own thoughts as they took a seat, huddled together on the far wall, observing the rest of the occupants in the waiting room.

‘Should we call his mum or something?’ Mel eventually asked.

‘I think he’d be mad at us for worrying her. We could let him do it when he’s feeling better?’

‘You not think she should maybe be worrying, though?’ Mel suggested. Jo gave her side eyes, but none of them answered the question.

‘What about his job?’ Becca questioned.

‘Which one?’ There was a slightly sarcastic edge to Mel’s voice.

‘Either. Both. Maybe raid his diary when we get home. See if he’s got any jobs planned for the next few days and give them a ring to cancel?’

‘We could always do the jobs for him?’ Josh suggested.

All three girl’s turned to look at Josh. ‘What?’

‘Well, think about the amount of shit he does for us? The least we could do is make sure he gets paid?’

‘Okay! I didn’t need the guilt trip, I was going to agree!’ Mel protested.

‘What about his other job?’ Becca asked.

‘He must have the number somewhere. His phone is still back at the house isn’t it? We can give his boss a ring.’

‘Actually, I’ve got the number in my phone. Martin gave me it in case of emergencies.’ Jo said pulling her phone out her jeans pocket, unwilling to admit that he’d meant her own personal emergencies involving Jake when he’d handed over the number.

‘Well I’d say this qualifies.’

‘Should we not wait to see what the doctors say?’ Josh asked, putting a hand over Jo’s before she pressed the call button.

‘Do you think they’ll tell us anything?’

‘They’ll at least tell us if he’s okay, won’t they?’

‘I think he’s just severely dehydrated and has that horrible gastroenteritis bug that’s going round. I’m sure he’ll be okay.’ Mel tried to sound reassuring, but she was just as worried as the others.

The diagnosis was gastroenteritis with pneumonia cause by vomit inhalation. Martin, as usual, hadn’t done anything by halves. When they were allowed in to see Martin he was hooked up to an intravenous drip, an oxygen mask over his face and a vomit bowl resting in his lap, mercilessly empty at the moment. He looked awful. His face was almost grey in pallor and his eyes were closed in exhaustion, but someone had propped his bed up slightly to ease his breathing.

‘Martin?’ Becca touched the hand nearest to her while the others shuffled from one foot to the other, unsure what to do or say. The nurse who had come in with them to check his IV bag tried to give them a reassuring smile.

‘He’ll be groggy for a while yet, bless him. Been through the wringer today, haven’t you, Martin?’ The nurse said touching Martin’s shoulder. He seemed to rouse at that, blinking owlishly up at everyone.

The nurse gave him another smile and squeezed his shoulder before leaving the cubical. The students didn’t know what to say, and apparently Martin didn’t have the awareness to say anything himself, instead he stifled a yawn, clutched at his stomach before closing his eyes again, leaving the students to stare bewilderedly at each other.

They stayed for a while, just stood there awkwardly watching Martin sleeping until the porter came in to take Martin up to the ward. He woke briefly and there were a few confused goodbyes before the students went home to continue with their evening. All of them were very aware of the lack of Martin’s presence, though.

**

‘Hey, Martin.’

Bleary green eyes turned to look at Becca as she put a bag down on the end of Martin’s bed, effectively trapping his feet, which were already cocooned in a blanket and sheet. He gave her a tired smile, and Becca had to admit that even though he looked like death warmed over he looked significantly better than he had done 12 hours previously.

‘I brought you some things on my way to Uni. Mainly clothes, a book, a few toiletries and your phone.’

‘Thank you, Becca. That’s really kind.’

‘Also we called Carolyn to let her know you wouldn’t be there to fly tomorrow, and we also called your mum and she said she’d be down later on today to see you.’

‘Thank you.’ He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t have the strength or the capacity for extended engagements in conversation.

‘How you feeling?’

‘Tired mostly.’ He cleared his throat, before adding, ‘Embarrassed.’

‘Embarrassed?’ Becca frowned, taking a seat beside Martin’s bed now. She didn’t really care about her lecture anyway. She’d have plenty of time to catch up in the practical tomorrow.

‘That you all had to look after me.’

Becca smiled and shook her head. ‘Martin, for all you do for us, the least we could do is make sure you didn’t die on us. Plus, we do care about you.’

Martin looked as if he’d been blindsided, like it was a revelation that the students he lived with saw him as something beyond a free ride. The truth was he was more like a substitute parent for them, or maybe some kind of rakish older brother. It took a moment, but he eventually smiled, genuine and full but mildly disbelieving, by which point Becca already had a plan forming for when Martin was released from the hospital.

*

When Martin made it back to Parkside Terrace a couple of days later, he stepped over the threshold, coughing into the sleeve of a jumper Becca had brought him to be met with a rather bizarre sight. The kitchen table was set for dinner, all cutlery and glasses matching – an oddity in itself - a banner hung from the curtain pole at one side, and tucked under a box of beer on top of the fridge on the other - the words ‘Welcome Home’ in rainbow colours across it.

‘Hello?’ he called out, his voice slightly croaky as he toed his shoes off, leaning against the wall as he almost over balanced.

‘Martin?’ Josh appeared out of the living room, an apron and one oven glove on, closely followed by Becca and Jo.

‘Mel went to pick you up from the hospital.’

Martin looked surprised. ‘I didn’t see her. I was waiting a long time in the pharmacy for my prescription though.’

‘It’s fine, I’ll give her a ring and say you’ve made your own way home.’ Jo said, disappearing back into the living room, her phone already pressed to her ear.

‘Josh has made dinner, as sort of a welcome home for you.’

‘Okay.’ Martin was dubious.

‘Jo and Becca may have helped a bit,’ Josh admitted.

‘Yeah, quite a lot a bit.’ Becca said as she steered Martin into the chair at the head of the kitchen table. He sagged into the seat, still somewhat bewildered by his homecoming. He’d expected to come home and crawl into bed where he’d spend the rest of the day feeling miserable for himself or sleeping. Most likely sleeping.

‘Tea?’ Jo asked, coming back into the kitchen and flicking the kettle on. This was entirely unexpected.

‘Um, please.’

‘This is yours, by the way.’ Becca said, handing Martin a cheque they’d received from Martin’s van client the other day for helping her to move a wardrobe down two flights of stairs in a block of flats that was too small for it.

‘What’s this?’ Martin asked, frowning.

‘Van job. Josh and I went and did it for you the other day,’ Becca admitted.

‘Then this is yours.’ Martin said, trying to hand the cheque back.

‘No, Martin. It’s yours.’ Becca was walking away from him and his outstretched hand so Martin turned to try and give it to Josh.

‘It’s got your name on it and everything,’ Josh said as he opened up the oven to have a look at the contents, ignoring Martin’s flapping. He gave up when Jo placed a mug of tea in front of him and started arguing with Josh over the state of the kitchen.

**

Martin fell asleep on the sofa in the downstairs living room that night. Josh’s dinner was edible, but Martin didn’t feel up to eating everything. It was fine though, because the girls kept plying Martin with tea, and Josh managed to persuade them that watching Mamma Mia would only make Martin feel worse, even if Meryl Streep was hilarious, according to them.

Martin woke himself up coughing not long after two in the morning to find all the students were still in the living room with him. They’d turned the television down to a low hum and changed to something less “laugh out loud” than Comedy Central, which they were watching intensely. Someone had tucked a blanket round him where he was curled up at one end of the sofa. As he coughed a second time Jo looked over at him in concern.

‘Do you want a drink?’

Martin shook his head. ‘I never said thank you to all of you,’ he croaked.

Josh’s head swivelled round at that. ‘Thank you?’

‘For looking after me.’

‘Least we could do, mate.’

‘Also it would have been wrong of us to leave you in your own vomit to asphyxiate.’ 

‘Thanks, Mel.’ Martin coughed, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips as he dragged himself to his feet, stumbling slightly, reinforcing just how weak and tired he felt.

‘You off to bed?’ Becca asked, staggering to her own feet and following Martin out the living room.

‘Yes, sorry. I need to sleep. I’m still not feeling-‘ He coughed and turned red and Becca gave him a tight smile.

‘You need anything just give one of us a text, yeah?’ she said, rubbing his back. He nodded and started the laborious climb on the two flights of stairs to his room. Becca left him on the first landing as Martin struggled up the last flight of stairs to his room. Even though he was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep not long after dinner, he still felt exhausted. Even so he still lay awake in his bed, marvelling that the students had taken the time to not only make him dinner, try and pick him up from the hospital and done one of his moving jobs, but they’d also changed his bedding for him and cleaned up the mess he’d no doubt left in his sickness induced wake.

He supposed that’s what housemates who actually cared about each other did, though, and Martin felt sad that he’d be losing them eventually when they graduated and moved on. Maybe though, this time, they’d stay. Maybe.


End file.
